


Inside Out

by DickBaggins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demonic Possession, Dubious Consent, M/M, Masturbation, Other, Wincest - Freeform, spoilers through 9x23
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 02:44:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1671770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DickBaggins/pseuds/DickBaggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean tries his brother on for size.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inside Out

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously Sam doesn't have his anti-possession tattoo anymore, but as I was posting this, it occurred to me that if Dean did smoke out and try to get back in his body, his own tattoo might prevent it? Or not because he's technically not possessing a body that isn't his own? Let's just hope they clear all that up in, oh, 140+ days.

Dean smokes out a second after his eyes open, smokes out like he's been doing it his whole life, like it's second nature already and it's kind of nice, soaring around the bunker, avoiding the copious devil's traps and other nasties, taking the whole thing in from a different perspective, billowing down the long hall to Sam. It's a GPS instinct leading him there, the strangest homing beacon flowing out of Sam and drawing Dean in. He swirls around his brother, Sam hunched and on his knees, body heaving sobs over the floor, and Dean wraps himself around Sam like a fog, pressing insistent and hard against him until he draws up and blinks blearily in the darkness. Dean _hears_ his heart thumping, feels it too, battering against Sam's chest and Dean's smokey incorporeal form and he _has to, he wants to, needs to_ _be close._

Sam's mouth widens in a silent scream and Dean slips so easily down his throat, into his body, inside of his head, radiating calm against Sam's panic, shushing him with  _it's okay, little brother, I'm here, I got you, we're gonna be just fine_ . Dean drops into those long limbs, that big body; it lights up alive and Dean grins with his brother's mouth, watches Sam's fist clench. He stands up and he  _reels_ , slams back against the metal shelf with a thump, half whiskey clumsiness and the other half Sam struggling, pushing against the extra consciousness with surprising strength, screaming nonsense, screaming inside his head just to scream his fear. 

_Better this way_ , Dean says inside, clenching his new eyes shut to focus a little more on communicating with Sam; it's strange and intimate and if he could just get Sam to calm the fuck down, he knows they'd both enjoy it.  _Just relax_ , he tries, but his – Sam's – heart is pounding harder, blood rushing and head at complete war, under so much fucking pressure that Dean has to lash out against Sam, has to press back hard and shrink Sam down until he's quiet. It's difficult, it'll take more practice, but he gets his brother marginalized within him, gets him down to just a whimpering mess and a low thrum of pain and disbelief.

“Aw come on, Sammy, always liked having me inside you before,” Dean says, smirking, making for the dirty mirror hung up in the cabinet. He likes having Sam's voice, likes hearing it chuckle out low and rough, likes how much it reminds him of all the dirty things Sam used to tell him. Even better, he likes seeing this new body in the mirror, his brother's face all of a sudden  _his_ . Gives him a rush and he almost laughs when Sam's body reacts with a sharp stab of arousal, his or Sam's, he can't quite tell; there's definitely some overlap.

_You don’t need to do this, I've always been yours_ , Sam bursts out inside his head and Dean sees the emotion crossing the face in the mirror, at once his and not his anymore. He sucks in a breath, presses one strong hand against the wall and let's the other roam over the familiar territory he's known his whole life. Every sense is sharp and his nerves are on fire everywhere and it feels  _amazing_ having his brother like this, getting him hard from the inside out until his dick is jammed up against his pants.

“Feel that, Sammy?” Dean huffs out, squeezes his strong fist around the hard ridge in his jeans and they both punch out a sharp breath. Sam's resistance slides away into nothing, Dean feels his indecision and his guilt but above it all, he  _wants_ and Dean laughs with his brother's voice again, one-handing his belt and his fly down, spitting on his hand, wasting no time. He stares in the mirror while he jerks his brother – himself now – off, delighting in the way the face flushes, the wet pink tongue poking out while he pants. “So close, Sammy, never been so close to you.”

_Dean, Dean,_ Sam says nothing but his brother's name, floating around Dean's head like he's moaning aloud, like Dean can hear it clear as a bell, and he can feel it too, Sam's conflicting emotions and his overwhelming desire mixing with Dean's, twining with the very corporeal feelings of that big fist wrapped around that big dick and Dean looks down and that is  _it_ , something perfect and horrible and beautiful about controlling everything like this. Sam's dick twitches hard, goes impossibly wide in his fist and Dean stutters out a surprised cry of  _Sammy_ , inside and out and he watches half-detached, spurting like a fountain, splashing loud onto the wall, everything clenching and twitching and dripping and Sam shudders inside of him, not unhappily, he notices through the haze.

A second later, Dean's smoking out of Sam, slow so he doesn't collapse his brother, wrapping the big body up in his foggy darkness, watching through the strangest, sharpest eyes as Sam regains dominion over himself, hand still clutching his spent dick while the other rakes through his hair, shaking. 

_So much fun, Sammy_ , Dean whispers against his ear and Sam shudders again, slips to his knees, panting out his brother's name again. There's less conflict now, Dean sees it in his face, catching the tiniest little smile on his brother's lips while he flies off down the hall again to reclaim his own meat. 


End file.
